


Strange Things Happen In The North

by Bethynyc



Category: Glee, Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Community: trope_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethynyc/pseuds/Bethynyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fusion of Glee and the Heralds of Valdemar series by Mercedes Lackey. Written to fulfill the fusion square on Trope Bingo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Things Happen In The North

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to malinaldarose for her beta work!
> 
> Pre-relationship, but the seeds are sown!

It was an ordinary day riding circuit near the Northwestern border of Valdemar. A light dusting of snow covered the ground; thick enough to be pretty, but not deep enough to suppress the chime of the Companion's hooves. Suddenly, Janna threw her head up, scenting the breeze. _:Trouble, Chosen:_

“How close?” Herald Blaine made sure that his feet were secure in the stirrups and tightened his cloak around him. 

_:Very. Be prepared to fight.:_ With that, she dashed up the road at top speed, which for a Companion was extremely fast. :He's holding his own, but not for long.: She swerved onto a deer path, making Blaine duck close to her neck to avoid the branches.

 _:Bow?:_ he Mindsent.

 _:If you can.:_ Blaine mentally thanked Kerowyn for the extra training she had insisted on, including being able to string a bow on a galloping Companion. Arrow at the ready, they burst through the trees to a clearing. 

A Bard, judging by his red cloak and tunic, faced off against four brigands. In one hand, he held a slender sword, and in the other a wickedly sharp dagger. His back was to a huge conifer with branches that reached to the ground, forming a natural room. A bay mare was tethered to the tree—the Bard had stopped to camp for the night when he was set upon by the brigands.

One body sprawled in the snow, testimony to the Bard's skill, but still, Blaine didn't like the odds. 

A brigand feinted towards the Bard, as a second lunged for an opening. Blaine sped his arrow into the second's back as the Bard riposted and thrust against the three that were left. When Janna reached the fight, Blaine switched the bow for his sword. “I think this evens up the odds a little better, don't you?” he quipped as two of the remaining thieves turned towards him.

“This ain't your business, Herald!” snarled one as he slashed at Janna's neck and received a hoof to the head in reply. The hollow thunk and spray of blood across the snow barely registered with Blaine as he parried with the other attacker. From Janna's back he had the superior ground, and his opponent fell back under his blows, losing his sword in the process. He scrabbled away from the Companion, finally struggling to his feet and dashing into the woods. 

Blaine didn't think he would come back.

He turned to the Bard, who was still fighting. His opponent seemed to be the leader of the group, with the best armor and weapon, as far as Blaine could tell. Still, the Bard's sword and dagger flashed with speed. Blaine looked for an opening, but they were fighting too closely for him to interfere.

Finally, the bandit rushed the Bard, apparently hoping to overpower him with his weight. He closed, and the two went down, the larger man on top of the Bard. Blaine urged Janna forward, hoping to do something, anything, but...there was a choked sound, and the arm raised to strike a killing blow fell limply to the side. 

For a moment, all was still. Then the body rolled to one side and the Bard sat up. He looked down at his Scarlets and sighed in exasperation. “Look at this! Blood all over me, and not a proper laundress for miles!”

His expression was so annoyed, combined with the perfect aristo-from-Haven accent that Blaine laughed at the absurdity of it all. Then his leg started to ache.

_:Chosen? Are you...:_

That was the last thing Blaine remembered before the dark tunnel closed around his vision.

~*~*~*~

Blaine's eyes popped open. He stilled his body, feeling where he had been injured. Yes, a sword cut to the calf, unnoticed in the heat of battle.

 _:Janna?:_ he Mindsent along their bond.

 _:Blaine? You're awake!:_ Her mental touch was flavored with relief tinged with worry.

 _:No, I'm dreaming. Do I smell stew?:_

_:You do. Now you should open your eyes and let our host know that you are all right.:_

Blaine blinked several times before wiping the grit from his eyes. He sat up and looked around.

The camp was snug underneath the ground-sweeping boughs of a huge pine tree. The tiny fire sat just outside the entrance, close enough to give off some heat without setting the tree afire. The Bard was crouched over the fire, stirring something that smelled wonderful. Janna and the bay palfrey both wore blankets and were eating from nosebags, and even from his pallet he could tell they had been groomed carefully. 

Blaine was in his own bedroll with an extra blanket over him, and he could see the Bard look over his shoulder. “Awake at last, I see.” He smiled and walked over to Blaine, holding a steaming cup. He set the cup down nearby. “Here, let's get you sitting up a bit better. Tell me if it hurts.” With a minimum of pain, the Bard helped Blaine sit up against the tree trunk, braced by the saddle.

“My name's Blaine.” he said, as he accepted the cup of tea gratefully.

“Kurt.” The Bard stood and bowed with a flourish. “Master Bard Kurt Hummel, at your service, Herald Blaine.”

Blaine smiled at his manners. “So what brings a Master Bard like you up to the wilds of Sorrows?”

“Seeking inspiration, of course!” Kurt smiled. “Now drink your tea and then we'll have some stew, and you can tell me all your adventures.”

“My adventures?” Blaine sipped his tea, and the spicy warmth spread through him. “You were doing pretty well against five bandits! I think that calls for a ballad!”

Kurt shook his head. “Murder ballads aren't my thing. I'm looking for something a little more...personal.”

Blaine nodded in encouragement, but that seemed to be all that was forthcoming. “I wanted to be a Bard once.”

“What happened?”

Blaine's eyes grew soft in remembrance. “My parents sent me to the Collegium for schooling, and I hoped to meet a Bard and get tested for the gift. Instead, a certain white lady came across me studying in the Palace Gardens and that was it. From Blues to Greys, without a stop in the Scarlets.” 

Kurt ladled stew into two bowls and handed one to Blaine. Their fingers brushed, and Blaine felt a little spark between them. “I'd always sung, and when I was young, a Bard came to the Keep where we lived. She heard me singing at the Harvest Faire and sponsored me into Bardic. I'd always been good at lessons, but the Keep wasn't exactly the easiest place to grow up.” He shook his head. “I don't know why I'm telling you all this.”

“I'm a good listener.” said Blaine. “And people tend to say things to Heralds that they wouldn't tell anyone else.”

Janna finished her oats and came to Blaine to remove the nosebag. Kurt did the same for the mare, who settled down to doze. Janna folded her legs and curled next to Blaine, who rested one hand on her neck.

“She's beautiful.” Kurt whispered. “I noticed when I was grooming her. I'd never been so close to a Companion before.”

Blaine glanced fondly over at Janna. “She's amazing. She's my very best friend and someone I can trust. I think everyone needs someone like that, you know?”

Kurt nodded. “Wouldn't that be nice.” 

A wistfulness in his voice made Blaine look at him a little more closely. “Did you want to be a Herald?”

Kurt shook his head with a sad smile. “Not really. I just wanted to escape from the boys in town. I wasn't...one of them.”

“Ah,” said Blaine. “Yeah, I got that too. Being small, being wealthy, being shaych...”

Kurt's face changed almost imperceptibly. A Bard had to be good at hiding expressions when needed, but Blaine was especially good at reading people. “Shaych?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn't tell.” Kurt's voice was devoid of emotion, surprising for a Bard. 

Blaine shrugged. “It's who I am, as much as being a Herald and loving music.”

Kurt thawed a little. “I understand about loving music. I'd pull out my lute, but...”

“The cold could make it crack, I understand.” Blaine nodded. “Maybe when we get to a proper town, I'll hear you play?” Something inside of him ached to hear Kurt's singing voice. 

Kurt smiled. “You mean the nearest Guard post or Healing temple. There's no way you can continue on circuit with that leg.”

“It doesn't feel so bad,” Blaine protested, and tried to move, but his leg sharply reminded him that he shouldn't, he really should not move.

Janna and Kurt both gave him the same 'I told you!' look. “I wrapped you up as best as I could, but you need proper stitches and healing. Otherwise it will go septic and then you're out a leg.”

Blaine submitted to the inevitable. “There's a map of the district in my saddlebags, it should point us to the nearest healing temple.” Suddenly he felt very tired. 

“Get some rest,” said Kurt. “I'll take care of you.”

He closed his eyes and listened to Kurt singing softly. 

_:Hear something you like?:_ Janna winked at him, out of Kurt's view, and Blaine felt his heart leap despite his exhaustion.

Kurt had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, and his last thought before slumber was that he wanted to sing with him always.


End file.
